• Mature • Polymathy

Sybil, please.

Stronghold of education and learning, this fortress is in one of the coldest areas of Idalos and home to many knowledge seekers in a variety of disciplines. However, unknown to most, below the city are those who suffer for the sake of science. While all are welcome, not everyone will be treated as they expect

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Doran
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Re: Polymathy

Sat Nov 09, 2019 4:10 pm

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To his surprise, Sybil didn‘t put up much of a fuss. He expected them to protest when he lifted them up and carried them out of the tavern, but they simply closed their eyes and pressed their head against his chest. That gesture of trust made him worry about them more. They had been so suspicious of him before, when they had first met. He doubted that they would have allowed him to take them anywhere then. What had changed?

Thoughts of hurting them, of maybe taking them to his laboratory in order to test his potions on them – he had had humanoid test subjects before, in Etzos – or doing something even worse, were far form his mind, even in his current state. There were people that actually volunteered to partake in such activities. He had no idea what he was actually supposed to do with them though, besides taking them to a place where they could recover.

“You are in my home, in the Obsidian Prism”, he explained as they opened their eyes again and started to move slightly. The tone of his voice was a hint softer than before. “Nobody will bother you here”, he promised. Their body, he noticed, was surprisingly warm, as if they were some sort of living hot water bottle. For a moment, he wondered if they had a fever or if they simply had a naturally high body temperature, like some people.

Sybil in turn would find that the Mortalborn wasn’t quite as warm as a normal person. There was something slightly cool, but not quite cold about him, and nothing soft, apart from his voice.

Their body tightened around his arm, he noticed, and their heart was beating faster. As he carried them over to the bed, they held onto him. “You aren’t well”, he told them, his voice a hint harsher again, in case they decided to protest after all. If he had wanted to, he could easily have forced them to release their grip on him, but he decided not to. He was, he had to admit, slightly concerned because of their peculiar condition, almost against his will.

He briefly wondered if any of the potions he kept in his apartment might make them feel better, and came to the decision that even a full night’s sleep and a hot meal might alleviate their symptoms, even if they wouldn’t solve the problem of their being possessed. They were obviously underweight and looked as if they hadn’t slept properly in a long time.

Since it didn’t seem as if they would let go of him anytime soon, he simply sat down on the bed with them and allowed them to lean their head against his chest a little bit longer.

It was quiet in the room, apart from the crackling of a fire in the fireplace, but somewhere down the hallway one could hear people move about. Elias, the human that had accompanied the alchemist all the way from Etzos, had decided to make dinner, assuming that his master would be hungry after whatever activities he had engaged in that trial.

“You should let go of me now, Sybil Malach”, he informed them after a while. “Unless you plan on clinging to my arm for the rest of the night?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at them questioningly.
Last edited by Doran on Sat Nov 09, 2019 7:02 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 573

Items

Ring of Reversal: Doran owns a Ring of Reversal. He's always wearing it, unless stated otherwise.

Sesser

Ever Alluring I: The bearer has an enhanced constitution, staying strong and healthy in conditions where others would wilt and fall ill. Scars never remain, disease rarely seems to visibly touch the bearer, and he/she recovers from injuries much faster than the average member of their race. The bearer seems to age more slowly, though the effect is superficial rather than biological. In addition, everyone encountered is subconsciously attracted to the bearer, even those of incompatible sexual orientation. Those of alternate tastes may not feel compelled to flirt or pursue the marked, but the spark of incomprehensible arousal, however slight, is there all the same.
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Sybil Malach
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Re: Polymathy

Sat Nov 09, 2019 5:08 pm

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XVI
36th of Saun, Arc 719

In the end, it was all exhaustion, wasn't it? Sybil could feel their body begin to bear some weight that seemed to stem from the center of mass. Their limbs were sluggish in response. They were at the point in which they had indulged rest, but had slipped out of the rhythm of remaining awake. A short nap that was hardly anything more than the trip from between here and the Tsavorite Prism felt as though it coated their senses, giving a thin sheet across their body. There was no real means of combating this outside of rest. And at this point? There would be very few things that they would rather do at this point. It wasn't like Doran was some murderous psychopath-- To their knowledge. So, they let out a soft breath, eyes slowly beginning to flutter closed.

Sybil relaxed as they felt the man's arm. It was cool. Not unpleasantly cold, but it was something that interrupted the general warmth. It was a paradoxical thing, but it was comforting all the same. Much how like one would seek to make their home somewhat cold, just warm enough, and put themselves to sleep through the warmth of their bedding. Though it was inverse. Their warm body was treated to something that wasn't as cold as the harsh elements outside, but definitely offset the general warmth within the room. Doran's arm was muscular and spongy, something that they enjoyed to feel. When constricted, it felt like stone, but when relaxed? It was something that was more comparable to a particularly firm pillow. A small smile crossed their lips.

His voice was calming, though their mind was too strained to make much sense of it. Soon, the two were in bed. Sybil was splayed out, wrapped up against his arm, while he was sat. Almost as though their body was responding in some silent way, they tightened their grasp around his arm, but their strength was somewhat poor. Something that could be easily chalked up to their general stature not being the most masculine nor powerful. It was barely even uncomfortable, to be honest.

Softly, Sybil's head finally shook from side to side. A light noise rose in the back of their throat, kind of like a high-pitched grumble. It was a response to the negative. Seemed like they weren't going anywhere, not too bothered if someone came in to offer Doran food, and came in to saw this scene. Whatever the case may be within the student's head, Sybil was in a state of mostly sleep, but partial wakefulness. Their small head was pressed up against the man's chest, their ear facing his heart.

Though... On closer look, their hair seems to be braided and tied back. Definitely not something that's comfortable. It's held in place by fabrics and pins in an attempt to look stately.
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word count: 503
"The machinations of apathy benefit only those that have power upon you. Yet, are not all gods and men made equal beneath the weight of steel? What then to the flames that tempered that iron into steel? To make what was impure, pure again, it must be sent through a crucible of flame. Cooked until all that is left is the purity of a blameless soul. Iron that weeps is not steel. Iron that has been tortured, burned, scorched, becomes steel through redemption alone."
-Sybil Malach, justifying the burning of a necromancer.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret

11/2019 Writing goal: ‭‭‭‭‭6,903‬/75,000
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Doran
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Re: Polymathy

Sat Nov 09, 2019 8:14 pm

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Apparently, the Mortalborn realized, as he noticed the small smile on Sybil’s face, they were quite happy where they were and did indeed plan on using him as their pillow for the rest of the night. He furrowed his brow momentarily before he shifted their weight slightly again – his arm felt as if it were about to fall asleep – and settled into a more comfortable position, watching them thoughtfully - and quietly so as to not rouse them from their slumber.

After a while, he decided that he didn’t mind, not as much as he had thought that he would at least. He barely noticed their weight anymore, and their grip was not particularly firm. It was a minor discomfort, at best, and he still felt so strange and out of character. When they grumbled, the hint of a smile flickered across his face, as if the sound amused him.

For several bits, he simply sat there, holding the weak and exhausted mortal. The warmth of the fire and the trial’s activities started to affect him as well. He began to feel slightly tired but forced himself to stay awake as someone needed to keep watch in case their condition deteriorated. Maybe, he thought, it would be best if he did stay for a while.

“Master?” Elias’ voice could be heard from the door. The human looked confused and curious, but again, he didn’t say anything. He was a servant, and he wouldn’t question the alchemist. “I have made tea and soup for your …” He hesitated for the briefest of moments as he looked at Sybil leaning against the other man’s chest. “… guest”, he finished.

The Mortalborn didn’t say anything, but simply gestured towards the nightstand. Elias set a tray down before he bowed and quietly left the room again, no doubt in order to talk to Namira who had recently returned from a trip. No matter, as long as the people that worked for him did their job and didn’t talk to anybody outside his household, he didn’t care.

He briefly looked at the bowl that was covered so that its contents wouldn’t get cold as quickly, before he decided that it would be best not to bother Sybil with food at the moment. They needed to rest more than anything else, by the looks of it. “I don’t suppose I can make you change your mind, Sybil Malach?” he asked when they moved again before his free hand went to their head in order to loosen the rather uncomfortable looking ties slightly as it seemed as if they might affect their sleep negatively.

“Keep your eyes closed and try to rest”, he told them.
word count: 464

Items

Ring of Reversal: Doran owns a Ring of Reversal. He's always wearing it, unless stated otherwise.

Sesser

Ever Alluring I: The bearer has an enhanced constitution, staying strong and healthy in conditions where others would wilt and fall ill. Scars never remain, disease rarely seems to visibly touch the bearer, and he/she recovers from injuries much faster than the average member of their race. The bearer seems to age more slowly, though the effect is superficial rather than biological. In addition, everyone encountered is subconsciously attracted to the bearer, even those of incompatible sexual orientation. Those of alternate tastes may not feel compelled to flirt or pursue the marked, but the spark of incomprehensible arousal, however slight, is there all the same.
User avatar
Sybil Malach
Approved Character
Posts: 1042
Joined: Sun Feb 03, 2019 9:36 pm
Race: Human
Profession: Ignoble Thanatologist
Renown: +295
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Wealth Tier: Tier 5
Medal count: 3

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Re: Polymathy

Sat Nov 09, 2019 10:55 pm

Image
XVIII
36th of Saun, Arc 719

Sleep had become a precarious concept for Sybil.

Dreams were something that wrenched control of them. Sleep was disturbed by the scraping of malignant memories, compounding into more confusing sensations. It was the simple case of the matter. The price of doing what it was that Sybil did with their life now. It was becoming more frequent, these dreams. They came in the dark of the night, during silent hours. When the air buzzed with the contradicting deafening silence, it was as though the world itself was whispering such horrible things into existence. More often, they were relying on varying methods of deprivation and periodic rest rather than genuine sleep to get anything close to a decent night of rest.

But right here, things were looking to be alright. At least, for the moment. Sybil could listen to the slow, steady heartbeat of a person. The same person that was dictating orders surrounding things that enforced a focus on their health. Their options were being limited, and they had little room for argument. Doran seemed like twice Sybil's side-- At least that's how it seemed to the thin, effeminate Sybil. Nestling against the larger man, they almost seemed like they were trying to burrow against him, like he had some warmth that just wasn't being felt yet. Their soft mumbling noises almost sounded like that of a small animal's passive noises. Slowly, their arms began to shift...

And no, Doran's arm was not released. Now, his arm was less restricted, but Sybil curled against it, as though cuddling it. Their arms wrapped around the bicep, while the rest of the arm was down their torso. It seemed that the student's guard had dropped, and simply became somewhat of a more docile version of their normal self. To think that this was the same person that had such a nervous, nearly paranoid approach to meeting with Doran would be a bit shocking, considering the sheer contrast in how their reactions had become more relaxed. Their legs stretched out, as they nestled in against the man's chest, their cheek rubbing against the larger man's pectoral.

Sybil did as they were instructed. They kept their eyes closed, as they felt the man's hand reach up, and into their hair. Almost mirroring their new role as some sort of small animal, it seems they've interpreted the sensation as being pat. As Doran pulled the pins from their hair, and pulled back the fabric keeping it in place, Sybil would begin to rub the top of their head against the palm of his hand. Comfortable with the sensation, their body was just doing whatever it was that elicited a positive sensation. A soft, relaxed sigh escaped their lips, as their spine slowly shuddered. It felt... Nice. The deep voice, the almost authoritarian tone... The feeling of something to hug. A soft bed. It was all compounding into a single sensation...

Comfort.
Image
word count: 510
"The machinations of apathy benefit only those that have power upon you. Yet, are not all gods and men made equal beneath the weight of steel? What then to the flames that tempered that iron into steel? To make what was impure, pure again, it must be sent through a crucible of flame. Cooked until all that is left is the purity of a blameless soul. Iron that weeps is not steel. Iron that has been tortured, burned, scorched, becomes steel through redemption alone."
-Sybil Malach, justifying the burning of a necromancer.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret

11/2019 Writing goal: ‭‭‭‭‭6,903‬/75,000
User avatar
Doran
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Posts: 784
Joined: Sat Sep 03, 2016 3:43 am
Race: Mortal Born
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Renown: +310
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Re: Polymathy

Sun Nov 10, 2019 2:41 pm

Image
Sleep had become a precarious concept for the Mortalborn as well, for much of the same reasons. During the day, he used Syroa’s Blessing to master his emotions, or to simply turn them off entirely so that he didn’t have to feel, but at night, when he relinquished control, everything real came rushing back in a jumbled mess. Most of the time, he was fine with it, although his sleep was plagued by nightmares more frequently than not. It was the price that he had to pay for his clarity of mind, and he paid it gladly.

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, things were different though. What had happened that trial, had made him let go sooner, and he found that he didn’t mind, at least for the time being, when his mind was still slightly clouded. The mortal started to make strange little noises, in their half-sleep, he observed, which he found peculiar to say the least. He hadn’t thought that someone with their background would be capable of sounding like that, so innocent, and drop their guards in the presence of a man who had admitted to stabbing an Immortal so willingly.

When they began to shift, he briefly wondered if they’d decided to lie down on the bed after all, but they simply proceeded to … cuddle his arm instead? He looked at them questioningly for a moment, before he moved slightly again, no matter if they complained or not, in order to give in, to some extent at least. One arm went to their head, and the other one wrapped around their waist to hold them in place. His grip was firm, but not entirely without gentleness. When they let out a relaxed sigh and shuddered slightly, he told them in not much more than a whisper, “Good night, Sybil Malach.”

The following morning, he would wonder what had compelled him to simply spend the entire night holding a mortal, but at the moment, he was quite content where he was, and perhaps even comfortable because Sybil, for all their strangeness, kept the nightmares at bay.
word count: 368

Items

Ring of Reversal: Doran owns a Ring of Reversal. He's always wearing it, unless stated otherwise.

Sesser

Ever Alluring I: The bearer has an enhanced constitution, staying strong and healthy in conditions where others would wilt and fall ill. Scars never remain, disease rarely seems to visibly touch the bearer, and he/she recovers from injuries much faster than the average member of their race. The bearer seems to age more slowly, though the effect is superficial rather than biological. In addition, everyone encountered is subconsciously attracted to the bearer, even those of incompatible sexual orientation. Those of alternate tastes may not feel compelled to flirt or pursue the marked, but the spark of incomprehensible arousal, however slight, is there all the same.
User avatar
Sybil Malach
Approved Character
Posts: 1042
Joined: Sun Feb 03, 2019 9:36 pm
Race: Human
Profession: Ignoble Thanatologist
Renown: +295
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Wealth Tier: Tier 5
Medal count: 3

Contribution

Re: Polymathy

Sun Nov 10, 2019 11:16 pm

Image
XIX
36th of Saun, Arc 719

Sybil had made plenty of bad decisions. They had barged into a cult with minimal investigation prowess. They refused to leave well enough alone when it came to being threatened. One could even consider applying for their continued education through the Academy to be a horrid idea, considering that all of this had occurred in tandem with the decision. It was a bad decision to open that door when the Mistress knocked, in that strange dimension that they have yet to have any sort of answer for. Yet, here they were. In another situation that could've become yet another bad decision. Sleeping in a stranger's home was an awful decision. Though they hadn't even touched a glass of liquor, Sybil was most certainly going to black out for a while.

... Yet, sleep wasn't an escape. It was never an escape.

Even as they were made comfortable in the bed of another. With something to cling to, draping from their chest down to their torso, it was naive for Sybil to think that the shadowy tendrils of reality would suddenly reversed the damage it had done with its claws upon their psyche. As they sank against Doran, their body rested. Yet, their mind seemed to be following a common trend that tainted their thoughts most nights. A dreamless slumber that'd feel like a blink of the eye, or a particularly bad hangover in the morning. Nothing was restful. It took an immense amount of effort to even keep the Mistress at bay. It took an immense amount of effort for the trauma to even process, their life having been threatened directly three different time.

Yet, all the same, they lay on Doran, taking what rest they could.

Perhaps, this could be a start of making decent decisions. Perhaps. Whatever the case, Sybil's mind entered a vacuum of sleep, higher thought all but erased from the echo chamber of the mind.
Image
word count: 339
"The machinations of apathy benefit only those that have power upon you. Yet, are not all gods and men made equal beneath the weight of steel? What then to the flames that tempered that iron into steel? To make what was impure, pure again, it must be sent through a crucible of flame. Cooked until all that is left is the purity of a blameless soul. Iron that weeps is not steel. Iron that has been tortured, burned, scorched, becomes steel through redemption alone."
-Sybil Malach, justifying the burning of a necromancer.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret

11/2019 Writing goal: ‭‭‭‭‭6,903‬/75,000
Abra
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Re: Polymathy

Tue Nov 12, 2019 7:52 am



Sybil Malach

Rewards


Knowledges:

Skill:
Discipline: Holding off shock about Doran's confession

Discipline: Hiding cumulative stress
Discipline: Resisting the urge to drink with Doran
Discipline: Alcohol can affect one's convictions
Discipline: Resisting some of Doran's interrogation
Discipline: Resisting the urge to just be out with the truth to Doran
Discipline: Withholding shock from the effects of partial-possession
Negotiation: Compromising with information
Negotiation: Getting Doran to surrender some power in a dynamic
Negotiation: Social placement changes the weight of demands
Negotiation: Negotiations can be smoothed over with good drinks
Psychology: Social power can affect one's perceptions
Psychology: Recovery is a process
Psychology: Some mental scars require time to heal
Psychology: Concept: Heroism
Psychology: Concept: Unreliable Narrators
Sociology: Viden values education (Core)
Sociology: Viden values social connections (Core)
Sociology: Viden values wealth (Core)
Socialization: Acquaintance: Doran 
Socialization: Having an odd trait or reputation helps start conversations
Socialization: Everyone wants a friend in some capacity
Socialization: Power dynamics can shift a relationship overall

Loot:
Injuries:
Wealth:
Renown:

EXP: 15

Feedback



Over the entire thread you did a good job of letting the reader know exactly how Sybil was feeling and doing. It helped to convey exactly what kind of toll she was taking at every step of the way and also helped to explain her actions. I didn’t quite understand the bakstory of Sybil’s illness but it sounds quite severe. I applaud her for seeing out a PC’s help in the matter, especially one who might have the ability to help like Doran. Your final posts were quite the roller coaster and I can’t wait to see what happens next with her. Enjoy the rewards.




Doran

Rewards


Knowledges:

Skill:

Deception: Pretending to be empathetic
Deception: Pretending that you didn't notice something
Deception: Omitting certain details
Detection: Noticing that someone looks tired
Detection: Strangely colored "blood"
Detection: The smell of rum
Detection: Noticing that someone makes strange noises in their sleep
Detection: The sound of fighting
Discipline: Resisting the urge to cough
Discipline: Drinking something you don't like
Endurance: Spending an entire evening drinking
Endurance: Holding someone close the entire night
Endurance: Forcing yourself to stay awake
Medicine: How to treat a nosebleed
Medicine: Withholding information can be dangerous
Medicine: Causes of tooth loss
Medicine: How alcohol affects the body
Psychology: Alcohol can make you act out of character
Psychology: How alcohol affects the mind
Psychology: Nobody is truly objective
Strength: Holding someone in place
Strength: Lifting someone up
Strength: Carrying someone in your arms

Loot:
Injuries:
Wealth:
Renown:

EXP: 15

Feedback


I liked the role that Doran played in this thread. He seemed to be the grounded and staple source of stability compared to Sybil’s troubled and sometimes questionable actions. I liked how his distaste for alcohol stayed consistent with his past threads and that he continues to be someone who is willing to help others. I kept wondering throughout the thread whether he was just being a good guy or if he had some ulterior motive behind his helpfulness. In any case it was nice to see Doran learn something completely out of his field of expertise with regards to ghosts. Enjoy the rewards.

word count: 534
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